Cycles
by I m p u r e
Summary: Tears, Sobs, Tears, Cries, Hits, Slaps, Kicks, Punches, Insults, Reprimands, Lectures, Kisses, Hugs, Unwillingly... It was Always Something. It was Always A Cycle. Smitchie, Eventually R
1. Scattered Preview

Prologue- Scattered Preview

"What are you DOING?"

"Um, I'm about to try out for football."

"WRONG!"

"Huh?"

"Get your ass off that field this second, or I'll drag it off you dumbass bitch! Since when are you aloud to even look at guys, let alone hang out with them?"

The aspiring football players turned to look at the brunette, trudging off the field with a hot face that burning with embarrassment. Why was Tess on the field? And most of all didn't she have a say in her life anymore?

"Mitchie go clean up the dishes!"

"But Dad I'm not done with my fo-"

"Did I ask you if you were done eating? No! Go make your self less useless!"

Mitchie trudged to the kitchen, afraid of what would happen to her if she disobeyed later that night… It was the same like this everyday!

SHE HAD HAD IT! She was sick of not being able to do what she wanted. She was sick of not being able to date any guys other than the ones her dad picked for her. She was sick of Tess making her look like a hopeless child in front of everyone. She was sick of having to go to sleep at night, covered, covered completely, in her dad's seed, because she caught his eye, time and time again. Was has the world come to?

Her Dad

Her Social Worker

Her Queen

Her Cowardness

Her Vulnerability

She was hopeless, because she chose to be. Because she chose not to fight back. Because it was what she knew. She was sick of this, that was impenetrable, that was invincible, that was so powerful it made her not want to defend herself. It was sick. It was a cycle…

**TEN REVIEWS TO START…**

**XOXO**

**iMikey A.K.A iSeeYourDarknessInTheHours**


	2. Blurred Vision For Vivid Memories

**Hello Everyone! Welcome to the first real chapter of my story! I know, I know, it's kinda short, but I wanted to break this chapter up into two parts, so please enjoy the first one!**

**Thank you for reviewing first… **

**Mini Sakura!!!!!!!**

**AND ALSO THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING…**

**peaceandlove7**

**bintou10**

**Amelie**

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**NOW I'LL SHUT UP AND LET YOU READ!!

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A Face.

Many Faces.

A Bed.

White with warmness.

It was all she could see through the blurred vision she attained at the brief moments she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Rough, calloused hands pushed and raised her body from different angles, making her hurt, and more than just two hands. But the thing that was making her _sore,_ was the fact that she was being penetrated over and over again without a moment for her to breathe through the pain below. She was no virgin, that was for sure, but it still hurt, and it would probably stay hurting. Empty or Not. Through her whole life. She would always feel like some cheap, dirty, easy whore that hung around the streets at night, hungry for money, and willing to do anything to get it. But that was not her story. Not at all. Her life didn't have an ounce of free will, as the normal whore's at least did have. They could chose who they slept with, and indulge in men waiting on their hand and foot, giving them gorgeous presents, and money, that they were free to spend. But Mitchie couldn't. Even though she did the same damn thing. She didn't have an ounce of self respect anymore, or an ounce of self esteem. Both those had been destroyed, and pummeled over years ago, by someone who shouldn't have, on the first afternoon of the last of her normal life.

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_You would usually hear that it was a dark night at the beginning of these stories, but in Mitchie's case, it wasn't at all. It was a rather beautiful afternoon. Sun shining, kids playing. The whole enchilada. It was a day where you would least expect unspoken of things to happen, and even less in a school._

_Mitchie's day care teacher invited all of the parents to class today. It was totally normal, she did it every week, but her dad usually didn't come. He always told the little girl that he had to work, but Mitchie wasn't as naïve as everyone thought she was. She knew that her dear ol' daddy drank some gold colored liquid, and invited girls she didn't know over every single Thursday._

_But today was different. He had come today, and it was supposed to be the best day ever, until she got white paint on her yellow sundress, and her daddy dearest had to go into the bathroom in the back to help her get cleaned up, before the paint decided to dry itself._

_The left sleeve. That was all that was ruined. That was what she could remember vividly was ruined, but instead of dabbing away the white paint, his hands were placed on the two little lumps near her throat. Her chest, Mitchie had known it as. Soon he moved lower, on her tummy, and then lower than that. To a place where no one, not even __she __had put her hands on before. Then, daddy unzipped his pants, and took out something she had only seen him use on the girls she didn't know, on Thursdays he forgot to take her to school._

_But this, this disgusting thing her daddy was about to do to her, was different. She didn't know it, but it was something daddies weren't supposed to do. It was something that was going to be scary for her to realize when she grew up, something that she was not going to want to realize. _

_She was confused. She had no idea why he father had taken that 'thing' out of his pants, but this was soon forgotten when she felt pain. Extreme pain. It felt worse to her little five year old mind, than 10 paper cuts, and scrapping your knees 11 times, put together. She felt like she was being split in two right down the middle, starting from the place that had never been touched, until being touched by her daddy in that place.

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The memory had come to her so well, so fast. It was vivid and clear in her mind, but her vision was blurred. She could not see, for pain has blinded her at the moment, but if she could live life on her terrible memories, with no new ones, she would have 20/20 vision…

oOo

Bare skin.

Dirty sheets.

Bare, familiar walls surrounded her.

But darkness swallowed her.

Mitchie knew where she was. But it did not make the location more inviting. Her being knew that some of her dirtiest, most tearful deeds that would make her She would have preferred sleeping out in the dog house with Shooter, the pitbull that was trained to chew her leg off if she was not with her father. And this wasn't an exaggeration.

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_She remembered the day when she had went outside to take the garbage to their street corner. Sweltering heat filled the air and streets. It was enough to bust every single fire hydrant on the block, and bring kids out of their lazy houses, and dance around, parading their sunburns. Shooter had been lazing around as well-----until he saw Mitchie. Too bad for her as she walked down the pathway from the house she had to endure her abuse in, the dogs ears perked up. He knew she was there, but she had no idea what the dog was about to do. _

_As the 100 pound dog lunged forward, she screamed…loudly. And those poor raggedy shorts she was wearing made the dog's attack all the more painful for her, and all the more easier for him_

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_Next thing you knew, her father was out of the house up the pathway, grabbing her by the hair, and hauling her into the house. God may strike you with lightning if you thought he would take her to the hospital. The huge gash in her leg was frightening, and scared the dear hell out of all the visitors in the house, with its leg muscles exposed, and blood running down like tears or a tributary from the Huang River in China. It was ghastly. The father knew it. The sister knew it. The visitors knew it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to find that Mitchie was losing a lot of blood, fast._

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**What did you think? Like? Hate? Despise? Please Review!**

**XOXO Mikey**


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